Our last talk was on self-immolation
More than a year later
I still think on that revelation
From four years ago although with endless love
We became bitter with guarded love
Exchanging the thoughts of suicidal
Insanity & both our circles was questioning
Our being trying to rob us of the spiritual
The attempt was to shoot my brains out over the suicidal letter
Leaving a blood pool on paper
But their was a stack of books with words to manipulate
Along with your messages & I have to state
Something that your support would empower
And ensure enough strength to create
Despite others words and the internal damage
Still trying to push forward to grow
But conflicting societies caused a veiled rage
Conflicting ourselves constantly & the damage will show
I can’t understand it & feel defeated
At times & the heart strings & four chambers became crippled
On interstate five going south you came back to me
In a dream reaching for my shoulder
And my reply was you had to exit, to enter; & you’re free
Of this world
A chaos of a world
I feel the only genuine conversation
I can have is with head stones
a insecurity of identity & isolation
An array of levels for different meanings & stones
Of a heart tried to minimize a voice but the guidance
Of generations is applied with knowledge to destroy the ones with colonizers obedience
And I feel alone while still doing for self
As well as unnumbered others even if the elegance
Goes unrecognized
When family doubt your being & question identity
It is hard to see who is genuinely sincere
I don’t understand all that vile energy
To destroy Indigenous kinship & make it all insincere
Regardless of it all still historically obligated
This is my letter to the dearly departed